Suck Eggs Dracula
by skwirelygurli
Summary: Sequel to Jack's Flaps. When Austin and Ally learn Jack's Flaps is under new management, they try to cope with the changes. Auslly.


**Suck Eggs Dracula, an Austin and Ally one-shot**

**I do not own Austin and Ally. It's been two years since Jack's Flaps, but I got inspired to write a sequel of sorts. Please enjoy!**

She's sitting at their booth when the happy couple strolls in for their Saturday pancakes. Her apron is absent, as is her smile. She runs her fingers across the plaque.

_This booth is reserved for Austin and Ally, Saturdays, eight a.m., by order of Marge._

She hopes they let them keep it there.

"Marge?" Ally and Austin slide into the booth across from her. They've been coming here for nearly three years now, and they've never seen her lips turned down. Never ever.

"Yeah?" She fiddles with the pepper shaker.

"Everything okay?" Austin asks. It's obviously not, and it seems like such a dumb question, but he's too concerned to make sense.

Setting the shaker down, she furrows her brow.

Brows?

English never was his best subject. She has two eyebrows, so it should be plural.

The expression, it's singular. Did the first person to furrow have a unibrow then?

He'll ask Ally later.

"I was _let go _last night."

"What?" The unison of their voice sounds in the room.

She explains. "Chaz bought the store from my boss and he said he's _making changes_ to _enhance the diner's experience."_

She doesn't need the air quotes to prove her point.

"You're the best thing about this place. And I love pancakes, so that's saying a lot." His girlfriend nods in agreement.

"Apparently I'm too slow. Says I should retire and get myself a cat."

"What does he know? You're awesome."

"I knew we couldn't trust a guy with a mustache."

"Austin, give it a rest already. Not everyone with a mustache is evil."

"Stalin, Gengis Khan, Hitler…"

She shakes her head. "Marge, is there nothing you can do?"

"Wish there was sweetie. I'm going to miss you two."

That week there's three stacks of buttermilk on the table.

_One Saturday later_

His heart sinks a little as he walks into Jack's Flaps. His stomach is still buoyant, so he trudges on.

The plaque is gone.

And so is Marge.

"Welcome to Jack's Flaps. I want to take your order." Chaz places two new menus on the table.

Wait, where are his favorite flavors? It has been the same fourteen flavors since they opened, and this list is much shorter.

There's waffles.

Who sells waffles at a pancake house? It's not the pancake and waffle house.

He scratches at the white face paint smeared onto his face. Austin looks up from the menu, disgusted.

"What happened?"

"Our menu got revamped based on market studies. Fruity is out, and yummy is in."

So he doesn't care about trashing the cape that hasn't been in style since ever, but he's up on all the culinary trends. What's with the costume anyhow?  
>Twisting in his seat, he notices another water dressed as Frankenstein.<p>

"Suck eggs Dracula."

"Blood, dang it, I suck blood!"

"Daddy, he's going to suck my blood!" a girl shrieks in the booth behind them. Her fork clatters to the plate.

Chaz clears his throat.

"Let's go." He doesn't throw down a tip, just his napkin.

"Great, now you're chasing away my customers."

Ally, who has been keeping quiet, as she's quite peeved herself, pushes the menus away. No buttermilk.

"Two red velvet please."

_One Saturday later  
><em>A human sized puppy comes up to their table. He grimaces when he sees who is seated at the booth.

Austin goes to divert his eye contact by playing with the pepper shaker.

The pepper shaker is not there.

"Where's the pepper shaker?" he asks Ally, only to be answered by Chaz.

"Nobody peppers pancakes. That'd be silly."

"Still haven't changed the menu back?"

"Still haven't changed your attitude?"

He sits up straighter. "You know, it's appropriate that you're dressed like a dog, because you're being a-"

"Austin!" Ally flashes her eyes at him, pointing to the kid sitting behind him.

"-wiener." He is dressed as a dachshund after all.

"You just said wiener in front of a six year old."

"So did you." He smiles at her.

Ally's blush deepens as the girl turns around. "I'm 7, _and _a quarter."

"We'll have two of what she's having."

Caramel apple may be sweet, but her heart isn't buying it.

_One Saturday later_

There on the bench outside of the door is a mountain of yarn. The woman is hunched over, but he'd recognize those orthopedic shoes anywhere.

"Marge!" She raises her head at the sound of her name. Ally runs to keep up.

"What are you doing here?"

"Making a scarf. It's my new hobbie." Her needles clink together.

Ally tugs at her tee shirt. "We live in Miami. When are you going to wear a scarf?"

"Being retired is hard." She throws her work down into her lap.

"Wanna join us for breakfast?" He jerks his head towards the restaurant. She hesitates, but tosses her yarn, now tangled, and needles into her bag.

Chaz approaches in a rockstar outfit.

So much body in so little leather pants.

"I just lost my appetite." Ally tosses her menu to the table.

"We can split a stack. Please Ally, it's tradition." His eyes grow, though getting an eyeful of Chaz's chest hair, his appetite shrinks.

"Espresso pancakes."

"Honey, not all the caffeine in the world could wake you from this nightmare," Marge mutters.

She couldn't agree more.

_One Saturday later_

This week he's dressed as a giant Lego.

Well, no one can see his bulge sticking out now. Austin considers this an improvement.

"How do you cook in these costumes?" Ally raises an eyebrow.

"He can't cook. That's why he refuses to make any of the original recipes."

"Get over it or get out, you snot nosed punk."

"I'll have you know my nose is perfectly clean." Austin leans forward to meet his face. He can see his nostrils flaring, a booger waving in the wind.

He'd rather he wave the white flag.

"Gingerbread, please."

When Chaz leaves, Austin reaches his hand across to take her unadorned left hand.

"I was thinking…"

"About?"

"Why do we keep coming back here if it's become some gimmick? Those costumes don't do anything to disguise how bad his pancakes are."

She shrugs, and he feels that plain finger slide against his palm.

"I figured you were going to try every pancake, like when they first opened."

"It's not the same without Marge."

_One Saturday later_

It's different, getting used to the feeling of cool metal against his palm.

There's someone sitting at their booth.

They get their zucchini pancakes in a to go box.

"Where are we going to go once we're done with Jack's Flaps?" He forces a forkful of pancake down. Should've brought syrup with him.

"We could make pancakes at home."

"We do that every morning. I want to take you out and show you off."

"Austin, no one's up this early to see us."

He brushes her hair out of her face. "It's a shame. This world could use some beauty."

He kisses her, hand falling into their to go box.

Eh, they weren't that great anyways.

_One Saturday later_

Marge waits outside Jack's Flaps for them to show up.

"Oh goody, there's something I wanted to give you two." She digs in her bag, void of yarn, pulling it out.

It's their plaque.

"Marge."

"I came across it in the trash when I came to pick up my last paycheck. I washed it off best I could."

Ally grabs it with both hands, and her ring glitters in the sunlight.

Needless to say, Marge's eyes inflate quite rapidly.

"We were going to ask you to cater the wedding. You really do make the best pancakes." Austin wraps his arm around his fiancé.

"Let's talk over breakfast."

The cinnamon roll pancakes are cloying sweet, even for his palate, but he manages to clear his plate. Maybe it's because he's in good company.

Except for that tree standing in the corner. Chaz has way too many costumes.

None of them can disguise how much of a failure he has become.

_One Saturday later_

It's the last pancake on the list. Jalapeno, and then he'll be out of here.

Chaz walks over to their table, clean shaven.

"I need Marge back."

"Duh." Ally kicks him under the table.

"Business has gone down, and if I can't get it back up, I'm going to have to close the store." He runs a hand along his scalp.

Austin shakes his head. "She's retired now."

Ordering his pancakes, he watches him sulk off.

"Think he'll convince her to come back?"

"Who knows. But did you notice that he's no longer evil after he shaved his mustache?"

"I've told you, Austin, mustaches do not make people evil."

He laughs at her.

_One Saturday later_

They peek into the restaurant a week later to see if Marge is back. She isn't, but Chaz says she's left a note. Once they're a safe distance away, they open it.

There's an address on an index card.

Showing up, they find that it's her address.

And the house smells like pancakes.

Banana pancakes.

"It always comes back to banana pancakes," Ally sighs, taking her in her arms.

"Sit down kids," she orders, pointing to a table in the corner of the room.

Ally nods, grabbing Austin's hand. "You didn't have to do this."

They sit at the table. There's a post-it stuck to it.

Seeing where their eyes are pointed, she smiles. "Landlord won't let me affix anything to the furniture."

_This table is reserved for Austin and Ally, 8 a.m. Saturday, by order of Marge._

It's perfect.


End file.
